Title: Walk into the Sea, Part Four
Author: seleneheart
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John/Rodney, John/Ronon, Lorne/Parrish
Rating: overall NC-17, this part PG-13
Summary: Death in the Pegasus Galaxy affects John in unexpected ways and in spite of his fears, he finds that some risks are worth taking
Word count: total ~16,000, this part 1,832
Warnings: spoilers through the end of season 3
Beta: lilithilien and muck_a_luck
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not for profit
Feedback: Yes!
Author's Note: I play with the time line between Sunday and First Strike. This is the fic that is known as the fic that couldn't decide on a pairing. And the fic that kept growing. It's not a WIP; it's done and has been betaed. It is too long to read in one sitting however, so I'll post a chapter every few days. Title from a poem by Ari Anna Arena

Previous Chapters







When they got to the village, Sheppard introduced Parrish to Azdaka and the other elders.

Parrish looked around and then announced, “I need some sort of stand or table.”

The villagers looked at each other oddly, but then a young boy was sent to a hut and came back out with a low round table that looked like it had been carved in a twisted shape out of a single log. John wondered how big the tree had been that was used to make the thing.

Parrish set the table down in the center of the circle of people with a small flourish and then he gestured for his assistant to step forward with the plant. He took it from her with a show of reverence and now every eye in the village was firmly on him. John hadn’t known that Parrish was such a showman, but evidently it was working because they were definitely paying attention.

“If you would care to examine this plant?” Parrish asked the elders.

They were clearly puzzled, even more so after the looked at the plant, some going as far as to touch it. They sat back down and looked at Parrish expectantly.

Finally one of the women, whom John remembered as Vartiku, said respectfully, “Good sir, it seems but an ordinary plant.”

Parrish smiled at her. “It is indeed.”

Then he took a small shallow dish from the lab tech and the roll of plastic. He rested the dish on the soil of the pot and then wrapped the whole thing with the plastic, taping it all at the bottom with duct tape. The villagers watched his every move with expectant curiosity. John had to admit that Parrish had them eating out of his hand.

Parrish started talking, “When the winds come over the ocean, they pick up moisture and create clouds. Clouds are heavy, gravid with water and they encounter mountains. But they cannot rise, unless they drop their burden of water.”

The botanist finishing explaining the rainshadow effect, then moved on to forest biology, and the biochemical pathways involved in photosynthesis. The people listened to every word he said, concentrating intently, although they would occasionally glance toward the small table holding the plastic wrapped plant. Parrish talked for over an hour, going into the water cycle and atmospheric convection currents with a side trip into fluid dynamics. But he never once said a word about the plant and the attention on him became even more intent.

John watched Lorne watching Parrish while the plant guy explained the situation to the natives. The major looked affectionate and proud, almost like a parent.

But once when the people stopped him to debate the distance to the ocean on the other side of the faraway mountains, John saw Parrish meet Lorne’s eyes, and that look was anything but parental. John gulped, feeling like he was intruding on something intensely private and he wished he knew how long it had been going on.

He wondered where Lorne had found the courage to break cover . . . what was it about him or Weir that told the major he was safe to love the gentle botanist. Because Lorne wasn’t being at all careful, looking at Parrish like that where everyone could see him.

And then he realized that Parrish was well aware of Lorne’s gaze. Parrish hardly seemed to notice that villagers were there, because he was playing to an audience of one. John forced himself to look away from their faces, to deny what he was seeing, a publicly intimate moment between two men in love.

He didn’t understand his ambivalence to their emotions when he was sleeping with another man himself. But he didn’t love Ronon, not the way Parrish and Lorne loved each other. Ronon was a brother in arms and a hell of a good man in the sack. But love, romantic love . . . it wasn’t something John had ever considered feeling for man.

Finally one of the people slapped the ground, interrupting Parrish’s flow of information. John was privately relieved, because he was wondering how the dramatics were going to aid his captured team members.

“The plant!! What about the plant?”

Parrish smiled, and bounced on the balls of his feet, looking like a five year old waiting for Santa Claus.

“Yes indeed! Shall we inspect the plant?”

He gestured them closer and they gathered around the twisted table. There was a gasp and John stood up to see what the excitement was about. Condensation blurred the plant through the plastic. Parrish carefully unwrapped the plant, shaking the droplets into the small dish.

“Would you like a taste,” he offered gallantly to Vartiku.

She hesitated, but his face was so joyfully pleased that she took a cautious sip. Her face broke into a smile tinged with amazement.

“But it is pure water!”

Parrish nodded, his joy fading into sadness. “Yes, the loss of the trees has lost the water. You see now how plants make water.”

Parrish finished and John stood up, not sure how he could follow that act, but he started in, attempting to persuade them. “There is fertile land on the windward side of the mountains. With trees and water, and everything you need to survive. We saw no sign of other settlements.” They seemed to be paying attention and he hoped they would learn their lesson this time. “We have resources to help you, people and jumpers to help you move.”

When he finished, silence fell over the village, as the elders looked at each other. Azdaka came forward slowly.

“We must discuss this.”

Sheppard inclined his head. “Of course.”

He paced, fingering his P90, hands drifting over the gun with the force of habit, reassurance. Rodney was still, waiting, like he was poised over some dreadful gulf and wasn’t sure how he could get to the other side. John didn’t know why this place and this situation had unsettled Rodney so much. Rodney’s discomfort made John feel odd and he didn’t know how to fix it. But he shoved it away. Rodney, at least, was here with him and safe.

John tried very hard not to pay attention to his chronometer, but it was over an hour before they came back. Another of the women seemed to be the speaker for them this time.

“I am Misothi, the eldest. We understand that it will be many generations of our people before the forest can return. Therefore we will move to this new land, keeping in our hearts and memories the forest that was here that we may never again make such a grievous mistake.

John grinned. “We will help you move.”

But she held up a hand. “But first, we require a sign that you have the blessings of the gods to aid us in this endeavor. We have seen how you have created water out of nothing and we ask that you make it rain over our land. A sign that the healing has begun. If you can bring but a few drops of rain, we will release your friends unharmed.”

“Are you kidding me?” But John stopped himself before he could say anything that they’d all regret. “I need to consult with my scientist.”

They nodded, and John grabbed Rodney’s wrist, tugging him away and ignoring the looks that Lorne and Parrish were throwing at him.

“How far away are Teyla and Ronon? And what’s standing in our way?”

“Thank god. That would be damned impossible, even for me.” Rodney worked with his data pad. “They’re underground, inside that hill.”

There was a low hill that was maybe half a klick away, but it was on the other side of the village. “Guards posted in front, I’m not getting any energy signatures from their weapons, but these people must know about electricity given the batteries we found at the gorge. I’d guess that their weapons are pretty low tech though.”

John thought that when you come down to it, their P90s were pretty low tech too. But it was a risk he was willing to take. “Can you tell how deep the cave goes or does it meet up with any others?”

“No. Sorry. It’s boundaries are too regular to be natural. I believe it is entirely man-made, possibly for this very purpose.”

“What about the terrain behind the opening?”

“I’m getting a slope of negative six, that’s too steep for any sort of stealthy approach. Plus, as you can see there’s no cover.”

John maneuvered them so that his back was to the group of villagers waiting on his answer. He pulled his gun up to the ready position just above his navel. Rodney’s eyes widened, understanding what John meant to do. He had a clear sight line to the cave and a couple of careful shots would take out the guards. His finger tightened on the trigger.

It would be easy. They’d never know what hit them and in the confusion he could rescue his team, and drag Lorne and Parrish back to the jumper. McKay wouldn’t argue with him, Parrish wouldn’t know any better. Lorne . . . Lorne would either congratulate him for not leaving anyone behind or hate him for taking out basically unarmed civilians.

John shook himself. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t live with himself if he did that. There had to be a way to get them out without bloodshed. This was when he really needed Teyla, to talk the idiotic villagers out of their idiotic plan. But she wasn’t here, and he was the only one who could make this happen peacefully. His hands tightened on his P90, but he made himself relax, forcing himself to watch each individual finger unclench as an exercise in control.

He whirled and stalked back to the village elders, ignoring Rodney’s protesting cry of “Sheppard!”

Fuck. Of course it couldn’t be fucking easy. Nothing in this galaxy was ever straightforward. But John carefully kept his thoughts to himself, thinking furiously. They needed rain. Just a little bit. How hard could it be? Rodney would think of something. So he nodded to Misothi, not really trusting himself to speak. She gave him a brilliant smile.

“You are an honorable man, Colonel Sheppard.”

He hoped she never found out how close he came to dishonor, but his throat unlocked and his voice came back.

“We can do what you ask, but it won’t be easy. We’ll need time to make it happen. Not forever, but several days.”

Her brow furrowed, but then she evidently saw the fairness of the request. “We will let you have four circuits of the star through our sky.”

“Thank you.” Mighty nice of them, considering that all they were asking for was rain and certainly it wasn’t even the Lanteans fault that these people couldn’t conserve their resources. But he knew better than to vent his frustrations at the moment. That could wait until they were all safe back in Atlantis.